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2001: A Space Oddysey
Jun. 10th, 2011 04:39 amNone of the three kids had ever seen it. They all, at one time or another, have intoned, "I'm sorry, Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that." But without having actually seen the movie. Last time I'd checked Netflix, it was only available if you got the DVD. That's changed; now, you can stream it.
I'd forgotten how sparse the dialogue is. The movie moves so slowly; great care is used to indicate how long it takes for things to happen. I think the attention to mundane details goes a long way to show the viewer how ordinary these events are supposed to be: Dr. Haywood meeting colleagues on the space station and pausing for idle chit-chat; the in-flight food service from the Pan-American flight attendant; Dr. Haywood and friends eating sandwiches and coffee while the moon shuttle covers miles and miles of empty dust and rock; Frank jogging inside the spaceship; Frank's birthday video from his parents. The lack of any sound other than the rush of air and breathing in the pressure suits really tightens the tension when the crew go EVA to attempt to repair a part which really isn't going bad. In fact, parts of the movie make you even more tense from lack of sound, I think.
On board Discovery I, the carefully modulated voice of the HAL9000 computer is eerie in its lack of emotion. First, in simple conveyance of information, and second when the computer starts to go mad. Even when we hear, "I'm sorry, Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that" (which only happens one time in the movie), the voice lacks any sort of feeling. Hearing that phrase, by the way, is even more terrifying due to the lack of emotion in its delivery. Maddie sort of squeaked when HAL said it, in fact. The movie up to that point had emphasized exactly how far away from home and how alone Bowman was at that exact moment, and the knowledge that his only hope for comfort and refuge is refusing him entrance is jolting.
Bowman's journey through the monolith stretches out for a long damned time. As he is being rushed through whatever it is, the colors give us a sense of terrible speed, and we see glimpses of his terrified face. We get the sense that his journey has been something far beyond what a normal man should ever have to go through. I can imagine him saying something like "This is WAY beyond my pay grade, man."
When the movie was over, all three kids said that they were confused, didn't "get it", and yet they still seemed to have enjoyed it.
Nathan, who knew a good bit of the story from me, will likely be saying "I'm sorry, Lou, I'm afraid I can't do that" for the next several months. At least, now, he'll know where it came from.
I'd forgotten how sparse the dialogue is. The movie moves so slowly; great care is used to indicate how long it takes for things to happen. I think the attention to mundane details goes a long way to show the viewer how ordinary these events are supposed to be: Dr. Haywood meeting colleagues on the space station and pausing for idle chit-chat; the in-flight food service from the Pan-American flight attendant; Dr. Haywood and friends eating sandwiches and coffee while the moon shuttle covers miles and miles of empty dust and rock; Frank jogging inside the spaceship; Frank's birthday video from his parents. The lack of any sound other than the rush of air and breathing in the pressure suits really tightens the tension when the crew go EVA to attempt to repair a part which really isn't going bad. In fact, parts of the movie make you even more tense from lack of sound, I think.
On board Discovery I, the carefully modulated voice of the HAL9000 computer is eerie in its lack of emotion. First, in simple conveyance of information, and second when the computer starts to go mad. Even when we hear, "I'm sorry, Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that" (which only happens one time in the movie), the voice lacks any sort of feeling. Hearing that phrase, by the way, is even more terrifying due to the lack of emotion in its delivery. Maddie sort of squeaked when HAL said it, in fact. The movie up to that point had emphasized exactly how far away from home and how alone Bowman was at that exact moment, and the knowledge that his only hope for comfort and refuge is refusing him entrance is jolting.
Bowman's journey through the monolith stretches out for a long damned time. As he is being rushed through whatever it is, the colors give us a sense of terrible speed, and we see glimpses of his terrified face. We get the sense that his journey has been something far beyond what a normal man should ever have to go through. I can imagine him saying something like "This is WAY beyond my pay grade, man."
When the movie was over, all three kids said that they were confused, didn't "get it", and yet they still seemed to have enjoyed it.
Nathan, who knew a good bit of the story from me, will likely be saying "I'm sorry, Lou, I'm afraid I can't do that" for the next several months. At least, now, he'll know where it came from.